Outskirts of Jakarta, Indonesia – November 6, 0410 hours
Yusman knew he was early so he waited
patiently in his car parked two hundred metres outside the refinery gates in
Segarajaya – a province about 13 kilometres northeast of Jakarta. The order
had been given and the operation that he had waited all these months for was
finally about to get underway.
Soon he spotted the first tanker leaving
the complex. The other six, all painted in the company’s trademark white and
green colours, soon followed along obediently forming a small convoy through
the deserted streets.
They turned to the east heading further
away from the city. This was their scheduled route which would take them to
their original destination in Surabaya, a town about 600 kilometres away.
This routine journey made once a fortnight, was expected to take some eight hours
because of the country’s speed restrictions on such heavy vehicles.
It would give him until noon at the
latest to accomplish his task before someone would raise the alarm when the
convoy failed to arrive at its destination. But Yusman knew that he would need
only about half that time.
After travelling for about 15 minutes,
the vehicles each loaded with 34,000 litres of petroleum, turned south and
headed to a disused warehouse located on the outskirts of Jakarta.
Steel doors were shut and locked as the last
tanker entered the old building. Yusman and his team were already there waiting
eagerly as the drivers lined up their vehicles.
The men wasted no time in getting down
to business. First, the vapour vent cover on top of each tanker was removed.
Slowly and with great care, the men using a long PVC pipe began pouring in just
over 200 kilogrammes of assorted heavy nails, screws, industrial nuts and steel
ball bearings. These had been coated earlier in heavy oil to prevent them from
rubbing together causing a spark. Soon they covered the base of each
eight-metre tank filled with light petroleum. These metal objects would form
the deadly shrapnel for the mobile bombs increasing their anti-personnel
lethality.
Next, the men tackled the engine
compartment placing a small canister filled mainly with potassium chlorate and
several other chemicals. A small pull-action primer was inserted to initiate
the device which was then encased in insulating foam to prevent overheating
from the engine which could cause a premature detonation. The device was
fastened to the engine block and a thin wire connected to the primer was
threaded into the driver’s cabin. It would take just a simple tug on the wire
to activate the device. The primer would then spark causing the chemicals
inside to burn to produce a constant stream of black smoke.
Finally, the explosives were put in
place. A single kilogram block of RDX, a stable military-grade explosive, was
attached to the underside hull of each tanker. Shaped into the letter V with a
thick metal underplate, the explosive was then rigged to be detonated remotely
using the microwave signal from a handphone. Because of its more complex
design, the microwave triggers were built and tested several days earlier. All
that the men had to do now was to insert the electric detonator into each
explosive block.
The V shape of the charge would direct
the force of the explosion upwards towards the body of the tanker blasting it
apart and igniting its flammable contents.
The men rigging the vehicles had practised
their jobs well and by 6:50am, all seven tankers were primed and ready. The two
explosive experts who had supervised the work, examined each truck one final
time making sure all was in order.
Meanwhile, Yusman gathered his drivers
and their attendants for a final briefing. Each man wore a dark blue company
jacket over his civilian shirt and a blue baseball cap pulled low. Yusman went
over in detail the plans they had all heard many times before. Using a large
map of the city, he pointed out to the drivers the alternate route each team
could take to reach its primary target should it become necessary to deviate
from the original plan.
Each team also had a secondary target.
If the men felt they could not reach their primary objective in time perhaps
because of heavy congestion, the team would then head to their alternate kill
zone. The timing he stressed, was everything. They would not have far to travel
but each tanker had to be in place at exactly 8:30am.
Traffic on the outskirts of Jakarta was
already starting to build up as the morning rush hour approached. Still, the
men waited patiently. As each team had a different destination, their start
times were staggered accordingly to ensure that all seven vehicles were in
position for a simultaneous attack. This too had been practised many times over
the past two days so that each man knew exactly where he had to be at precisely
the right time.
This operation was not expected to be a
suicide mission and the men could reasonably expect to return safely but only
if everything went exactly to plan.
Just as he ended his briefing, Yusman
handed each attendant a grenade. These along with the RDX explosives had been
stolen two months earlier from a military barracks in Banda Aceh on the western
tip of Java. He warned the men that the grenades were only to be used as a last
resort should the main explosives fail to detonate.
Yusman showed them exactly where the
grenade should be placed under the most vulnerable part of the tanker if it
came to that. He did not have to tell them that should the use of a grenade
become necessary, given its short four-second fuse, the men would almost
certainly be caught up in the resulting blast and survival would be near
impossible.
With the briefing over and final prayers
said, the teams mounted their respective vehicles to await the order to leave.
Most were consumed with their thoughts about the carnage soon to be unleashed
but a few seasoned hands seemed unperturbed by the real dangers they faced.
At 8:02am the first truck called Tanker
One began rolling out of the warehouse. Over the next nine minutes, the
remaining vehicles began their short one-way journey into history.
Yusman watched them go in a heady mix of
excitement, apprehension and also a tinge of sadness. This would be his biggest
and most complex operation to date – and also his last. For it to work
perfectly, the teams needed to follow their instructions to the letter.
He checked his watch again. It was time
for him to leave and head back to his safe house a six-minute drive away. From
the balcony of this 10th storey apartment, he would be able to see
his final mission live and in person.
Tanker One headed to Blok M, a business
cum shopping centre located in Kebayoran Baru in South Jakarta. Built some 20
years earlier, the area was always packed with locals and tourists out for some
bargain hunting. The narrow two-lane roads around the area, all one-way
traffic, were frequently congested and today it was no different.
The driver expertly manoeuvred his
cumbersome 10-wheeled vehicle through the chaotic traffic as the attendant
checked his watch. At precisely 8:27am as they passed the front of Blok M, the
driver veered sharply from the left lane to the right narrowly missing an
elderly motorcyclist before mounting the curb and hitting a small tree. With
the tanker stopped at an angle, the entire road was effectively blocked off
bringing all traffic behind it to a grinding halt. As the vehicle mounted the
curb, the attendant triggered the smoke canister in the engine compartment,
causing a small but constant stream of black smoke to emerge from the engine
bay.
A crowd of curious on-lookers soon
gathered to get a better view of the apparent accident and the traffic build-up
was almost instantaneous. Amidst the blaring horns from disgruntled motorists,
both men alighted from their seemingly immobile truck. The attendant picked up
his handphone making a show of calling for assistance. As they walked through
the swelling crowd, they casually discarded their distinctive blue jackets and
caps which helped them blend into the background.
Barely 60 seconds later, both men had
disappeared into the crowd as the attendant punched in the activation number on
his handphone. When they were 200 metres away and shielded by a large
concrete wall, the attendant crouched down, checked his watch and hit the green
call button.
The time was 8:30am – precisely.
No one could discern the double
explosions as the first happened a fraction of a second before the following
blast. The RDX tore through the hull of the tanker instantly setting aflame the
34,000 litres
of petroleum. This was only about a third of the fuel carried by American
Airlines Flight 11 – the first plane to hit New York’s World Trade Centre in
the terrorist attack on September 11, 2001. Still the effects were no less
chilling.
The huge fireball fuelled by the
petroleum reached over 300
metres into the sky as the pressure wave blew out
windows up to half a kilometre away. The thick smoke shielded for a time, the
utter devastation on the ground. Vehicles next to the tanker had also exploded
and were left burning, leaving behind the charred and blackened remains of
their occupants still strapped in their seats.
Further out from the immediate blast
zone, scores of people, many of them onlookers, lay dead in an untidy heap of
dismembered body parts burnt beyond recognition. Those fortunate enough to be
further away from the immediate kill zone of Tanker One were hit by shrapnel
blasted out from the exploding vehicle.
The effects on office workers, tourists
and ordinary folk going about their daily business in this busy district, were
no less horrific than being caught in a merciless hail of bullets. Some were
decapitated instantly, their now lifeless bodies still moving forward a step or
two before crumpling to the ground. Others were cruelly torn apart by the
shrapnel which exited their bodies with still lethal force.
Large glass shards falling from the
surrounding buildings also took out more innocent victims as the flaming
petroleum flowing across roads and through drains, started a rolling series of
building fires that would continue to burn well into the evening.
The intense fires coupled with the
grid-locked roads, prevented ambulances and other emergency vehicles from
reaching the victims still clinging to life. Those who were still conscious
would hear the approaching sirens but help for them would never arrive in time.
Tanker Four was tasked with a more
symbolic hit – the American Embassy. This fortified building was set well away
from the busy boulevard it fronted.
As the vehicle neared the front of the
embassy, the driver braced himself for the impact as he gunned his engine. The
tanker lurched forward crashing into the rear of the van he was following.
Immediately on contact, the attendant triggered the smoke device sending a
cloud of black smoke billowing out from the engine.
Stopping by the roadside 70 metres away from the
embassy’s guard post, the ‘accident’ had already triggered a security response.
With two armed guards running to the scene, the attack team dismounted from the
vehicle. The embassy’s security men with weapons drawn ensured that no one was
hurt before escorting the driver and attendant back to the guard post.
A small crowd of about 20 people were
lined up at another gate close by, waiting to enter this highly-protected
building to apply for US visas. More security guards were arriving by the
minute as the attendant, who had already keyed in the attack code, pressed the
green call button on his handphone.
The time was 8:30am – precisely.
The resulting explosion mirrored the
others that were taking place all over Jakarta this morning. This blast tossed
several passing vehicles into the air and they came crashing down on the road
which was already engulfed in flames.
Both team members, who were still well
within the kill zone, knew that there was no way out for them. There was barely
enough time for a silent prayer as a rain of deadly shrapnel tore through their
bodies with ease. Five security guards and most of the crowd outside the
embassy were also struck down, many fatally.
The embassy itself suffered no
significant damage apart from some broken windows caused by the pressure wave
from the explosion. Only four employees were injured by the flying glass but
all would live to recount the horror of November 6.
In planning the hit, JI knew that the
damage to the embassy would be light but still the message would be delivered
loud and clear to the Americans that they were still in the crosshairs.
But it would be Tanker Seven that would
deliver the most horrific example of pure terrorism to the Americans and the
rest of the watching world.
The men of Tanker Seven pulled their
vehicle over to the side of the street just before a road hump about 200 metres from the
entrance to the Indonesia American School. It was far enough away so as not to
arouse suspicion of the school guards and yet be close enough to their
approaching targets. School was due to start at 8:45am and the buses loaded
with the first and second grade students should be arriving any minute now.
The tanker driver made a show of opening
the hood of the engine bay and fiddling with the cables. He checked his watch.
It was 8:26am. Leaving his hazard lights on and the hood open, he and his
partner began walking away. The latter had already keyed in the telephone
number into his handphone. Now all that was left for them to do was wait.
Three minutes later, the two yellow
school buses turned the corner and slowed down as they approached the road
hump. They were driving just three metres apart now and the buses were right on
schedule as they neared the tanker.
The attendant waited from his vantage
point 300 metres
away until both buses were aligned with the tanker. From his left, he heard the
first sound of an explosion a few kilometres away. The attack had begun as he
keyed the call button of his handphone.
The white flash and deafening blast
caught the man by surprise and it took several seconds for him to regain his
senses. Instinctively he checked his watch. It was 12 seconds after 8:30am and
his job was done.
The blast ripped through both buses as
they were tossed on their sides and sent spinning like giant tops across the
road by the pressure wave. Burning oil soon engulfed these vehicles drowning
out any final screams from those children trapped inside. There would be no
survivors.
One press photographer who happened to
be nearby would soon take a picture that the world would remember for years to
come. Amidst the smoke and burning embers, the small blackened hand of a dead
child – with the flesh charred almost to the bone, reached out from one window
of the overturned bus as if pleading for help – an innocent, silent cry that
the world failed to hear.
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